iRoad Trip
by LizzehBoo
Summary: When Carly moves to New York for her career, Sam and Freddie are determined to get her back. So they hit the road and learn things not only about life, but about each other. SEDDIE. Rating may rise in later chapters.
1. Prologue

**iRoad Trip**

**an iCarly fanfic**

**by Goten0040**

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**Prologue**

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I think we all knew that when Carly sat us down to talk to us that we weren't going to like what she was going to say.

It was the summer before our senior year of high school and the air felt humid and sticky, even in her well-conditioned apartment that she shared with her brother. I was squeezed in between said brother and her best friend on the couch. I wasn't sure why Spencer was sitting with us, watching Carly pace back and forth. By the grim look on his face and lack of humor, it was clear he already knew. Sam was silently watching too, her periwinkle eyes darting back and forth, and there was a jittery nervousness emanating from her that was contagious. I, however, wasn't mauling a leg of fried chicken to quell my nerves. Actually, if I had even had a bite, I would probably end up seeing it on the floor. That was how I dealt with my nerves. I wallowed in them.

But if any of us were nervous, Carly was ten times worse. She couldn't quite get her voice to come right away, so she was pacing, trying to work up the courage. She was particularly strung out over it, though that wasn't saying much, considering how neurotic she could be at times. She was always such a perfectionist that if anything was out of place, she'd panic. And something was _very_ out of place. Nonetheless, I found myself wishing she'd speak already because not knowing was killing me. _Just say it,_ I thought, _quick and fast, like ripping off a Band-Aid._ I glanced at Sam, who had finished her chicken, the bone lying messily on the coffee table in front of her, and sat still as a stone. That was what she was, a rock – Carly's rock.

"I'm leaving." The words struck me, a cruel sucker punch as I had looked for the strength everyone else seemed to have.

"What do you mean?" Sam's voice was softer than I was used to. "Like… for the summer?"

I think we were all fully aware that wasn't the case, but it didn't stop my wishing for it to be true.

"No…" Carly said, her voice meek and high-pitched, almost childlike. "I… I got a call…"

I knew immediately who had called. "From that film director?"

She nodded. "I… I got the role." As cheerful as she tried to sound, her eyes were glazed with tears, her voice laced with sorrow and guilt. "He wants me to move to New York."

"So you're going then?" I asked, and I tried to sound happy too. Of course, I wasn't the actor Carly was, so it wasn't exactly believable. "Congratulations!" I smiled at her, but it felt cracked and tight. "Spencer going too?"

"No… I'm staying with Socko's sister. Spencer will come out next year, when the lease runs out."

I looked at Spencer. He already looked lonely.

"…When do you leave?" I asked finally.

"Next week," she replied, devastation hidden shoddily behind her mask. "I think we should do a final iCarly. Go out with a bang, y'know?"

_A final iCarly…_ I felt like I'd just been told someone close to me had died. It was a numb shock that left me paralyzed in my seat. iCarly, my project, my _baby_ was dying.

"Y-yeah, sure. We can do that." My throat burned around a lump that was rapidly forming. I stood up and wrapped my arms around her. She felt so tiny. "I'm so proud of you."

I knew she wanted to say more, but I also knew she didn't have the strength. I looked to Sam, who had been deathly silent the entire time. Her eyes were cast down as she slipped silver rings on and off and on her fingers. I couldn't read her. Her mask was much stronger than Carly's, toughened after what had probably been the year from hell for her – not that she ever showed any issues.

Her mother went missing the year before. She'd been pretty quiet then too. In fact, Carly's announcement fell almost on the anniversary of Sam's mother's disappearance. She'd been living on her own ever since. Luckily, her father provided her with the money she needed to keep the apartment (probably out of guilt fro never being, and never continuing to be in her life).

Yep. She was completely silent: silent when we made some arrangements for the last show, silent as we said goodbye, and silent still as she tromped down the stairs to the lobby, leaving me at the top, staring after her in an anger I couldn't begin to understand. I wanted to say something, anything. But that was Sam Puckett – always leaving everyone wanting more. I knew I shouldn't have been angry. She had her way with dealing with things. But her best friend needed her support, and I had the self-righteous thought that she was being selfish (but then again, wasn't Carly being selfish for picking her career over people she loved? I knew it was one of the hardest decisions she ever made, but a childish side of me hated her for it.). Deep down, I knew I was just jealous that Sam could allow herself to feel the way she did. She didn't want Carly to leave; neither did I. But I had to suffer while faking a smile. That was relatively worse than yelling and screaming at times. I figured I'd bottle it up and eventually develop a tumor on my brain or something. It was rather incredible my mother hadn't yet, at least.

I pushed my glasses up on my nose. I'd had them for about three months. Years of staring at laptop screens and through camera lenses left my vision pretty lousy, and though I tried to convince myself that my blurry vision was simply because I still wasn't used to the corrective lenses, as I dragged myself into my apartment and my bedroom, the tears running down my face, it was fairly obvious that was not the case.

--


	2. Chapter 1

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**Chapter One**

**--**

The last episode of iCarly had come and gone, and as we stood in the airport, I felt almost like a shell of my former self. Spencer was going to New York with Carly to make sure she got settled. They had already sent their things off. And they were getting ready to board the plane. Carly ran a hand through her cropped hair, her dark eyes watering as Spencer slung her duffel bag over his shoulder.

"Well… this is it," she said.

"Yep. This is it," I replied.

She gave me a hug, and I never wanted to let her go. Letting her go would get her even closer to that plane and even further from us. My crush on her had long since faded, but my need for her hadn't. Sam and I _needed_ Carly. She made our days a little brighter, a little bit easier. To think that the apartment across the hall would soon be empty was a thought that made me want to crawl in bed and never leave. Still, I released her, unable to take my longing eyes off of her, and unable still to beg her not to go. Then, she stepped up to Sam.

I didn't want to watch, but it was like a car accident. I couldn't look away.

Spencer clapped a hand on my shoulder, and I looked to him with tears in my eyes. Always a man I could look to for help, I knew he could read my questions. _Why does she have to go? Why can't she stay? Why won't you stop her? Why can't I?_ He didn't say a word. Silence was probably the best answer he could give me. If he had given me any spark of hope that stopping her would be right, I would have stopped her in a second, clung to her ankles like a spoiled child and kicked and screamed until she agreed to stay. But I couldn't move.

"Sam… I know you're… probably angry…" Carly's voice cracked and I bit my lip, the tears flowing against my will. "But… I don't want to leave on bad terms. Please… I love you. I'm… I'm going to miss you so much…"

"I'm not mad, Carly."

It was the first words I had heard out of her that day. She looked up at Carly, a mass of frizzy blonde curls spilling down her back as she sucked on the silver labret in her lip. Her eyes were bluer than they had ever been - a sign of the sorrow she kept so carefully controlled.

"I just… don't want you to go. You're… you're my best friend, y'know? But… I want you to go at the same time. I want you to show everyone how awesome you are."

"And I won't let you down, Sam. I know you'll get there too!"

"Don't, Carly," she said softly, reaching out and holding her hands. "It's already hard."

"I'm sorry…"

"It's okay. I'll call you, okay? I'm…" And then the flood gates opened, and Sam's voice grew hoarse with tears as she pulled Carly into her arms and buried her face in her shoulder. "I'm really gonna miss you, Carls. I don't know what I'm gonna do without you!" They sobbed together.

Hiding away in my room seemed like an even better idea. Sam had a point. _What the hell_ are_ we going to do without you, Carly? I don't think we can make it on our own._ I leaned into Spencer and cried with them. We all cried, and when Carly said goodbye, we cried even more.

As the plane flew off, Sam and I stood at the window, watching it head to the horizon, numb and silent. I patted her shoulder, but she wouldn't look at me.

"Come on," I said softly, exhausted emotionally. "I'll take you home."

We walked to the car in silence, Sam shoving her hands in the pocket of her hoodie, even though it was much too hot for a black sweatshirt. She was still wearing shorts and sneakers, however, which even further defeated the point. But she contradicted lots of things. She plopped down in the passenger seat of my small, clean sedan, pushing her feet up against my glove compartment, leaving dirty footprints. I didn't have the heart or energy to tell her to put them down. She turned her labret, and then set to staring out the window. I started the car. She turned off the radio before the first note hit my ear.

The drive felt as if it was an eternity, and it scared me to death. _Is this really what it's going to be like without Carly? This quiet? This lonely?_

"I shouldn't have let her go," Sam spoke up suddenly, her voice a low murmur. "I should have asked her to stay. She would've."

"That would have been selfish… no matter how much I wish you had. We have to support her, Sam. She would do the same for us."

"Are you sure? Are you _really_ sure?"

I wasn't, but I looked at her with a strong jaw. "Yes. Shouldn't you be?"

"I don't know." She bowed her head, rubbing at her eyes. There were still eyeliner streaks on her face, and she was smearing gray eye-shadow, making it worse. "I don't know anything."

I frowned, trying to focus on the road. What could I tell her? "Yes, you do."

"No, I don't. I might as well drop out of school now. Carly's the only one that cared if I fucking went or not."

"Sam…"

"Shut up."

I sighed. Sam was entirely too difficult sometimes. "What, so now that she's gone, you're just gonna do whatever you want?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Well, at least think about it a little bit. Your grades aren't that bad. You could pull them up, get into a good college, maybe in New York."

"Thanks for your astounding faith, Fredward. But no thanks. I don't want to go to school. I want to perform. But I don't have movie directors and producers knocking down _my_ door."

"You can't possibly be jealous."

"No," she answered quickly through gritted teeth. "Just frustrated."

She rolled down the window, the hot air a blast against my face. I would have much preferred the air conditioner, but she wouldn't have it. She was signaling the end of the conversation.

--

I spent the next few days in a weird haze, dragging myself around the house, not bothering to do much. My mother doted on me, squabbling how she didn't want me to become clinically depressed, because then it would hinder me, and then I would get worse, and then I would end up hanging myself off the fire escape because I just couldn't take it anymore, and she would feel so much regret because it was probably because my father was never in my life, and then it would be all her fault.

My mother was the reason I finally dragged myself out of the house. I was still depressed, but her squawking at me all day was riding on my nerves. It took me a good ten minutes to turn away from Carly and Spencer's empty loft and go downstairs.

The Groovy Smoothie hadn't changed at all in all the time I'd been there. T-Bo still worked behind the counter and tried to sell various items on a stick (that day, it was jalapeños – though who would buy them was a mystery to me). I decided that I'd much prefer a strawberry-lime smoothie, and as I sucked on the straw, it tasted bitterer to me knowing that the chair across from me would remain empty, and that Carly was probably sipping lattes instead in a cozy New York City café. I guess I was a little jealous too, knowing that she'd pretty much outshined us without an issue.

Then again, I also knew she always had.

Suddenly the chair to my left was yanked out from under the table with a loud scraping noise, breaking me out of my trance. Sam was already lounging in it, her eye makeup particularly heavy for the day, and I could tell she had gotten excited. She had the tendency to overdo the makeup when excited. When she was asked to junior prom, she looked almost clownlike until Carly fixed it. At least she had a little more control.

"You look happy," I said. _I wish I felt happy._

"I am."

"Why? Did Carly call?"

"Nope." That was the only thing I thought would bring Sam out of her depression. Sam dipped a french fry in her smoothie and munched on it, keeping me in suspense. "I came up with an idea. And you're going to help me."

My first thought, as it always was, was to run. But my curiosity kept my butt in my seat.

"Oh, really." I gave her a dubious look, but she knew she had already bated me. She just had to reel me in.

"I think you'll agree with me on this one, Freddo." She sighed, actually getting down to business. "I think we can both agree that the moment Carly left, we both knew we couldn't make it without her."

I could agree with that, though I chalked it up to simple depression at the change. Still, the world felt awfully lonely without her.

"Yeah, so?"

"Freddie," Sam half-whispered. She said my name. It meant she was serious. "We are gonna go get her."

"What?! Are you insane? She's in New York, Sam!"

"What? We'll fly out, beg her to come back, and she will."

"And she'll hate us for it! This is her career, Sam. We can't just be selfish."

"But she's all alone in New York! She probably hates it there!"

I really wanted to agree with her, but I forced myself to think practically. I sighed. "Even if that's the case – and we don't know that – getting the money for plane tickets is ridiculous. And my mom would never let me go! She'd take my car, Sam. I'd never be able to leave. I would have to walk everywhere. _You_ would have to walk everywhere. You want that?"

Sam leaned on her hand. "Then we'll drive to New York."

I stared her down. "Did you even hear me?"

"Hey, she can't take your car if you have it. Let's road trip! Besides, it couldn't hurt you to get out of this town. If you don't now, you may never get out. Now imagine with me… you and your mommy… together forever."

I did imagine it. It was terrifying.

"Oh God no…"

Sam smirked, knowing she had me. But I wasn't down for the count just yet.

"How are we going to pay for a road trip all the way across the United States? That'll be way more than just flying!"

Sam then produced a gigantic wad of bills from her small backpack, slamming them on the table. I stared as she fanned them out, then quickly returned them to their hiding place.

"Sam… where the hell—"

"I didn't steal it if that's what you're thinking. I've been saving. I have a job you know… well… had one."

"What did you do? …Never mind. What the hell were you saving for? You didn't know Carly was going to leave until a week before she left."

"I was gonna get a tattoo with it."

I couldn't stop myself. "Of what?"

"The world's fattest priest. I was gonna get it right on my ass."

"_That's_ attractive." I rolled my eyes.

"Shut up. This is more important. So are you in or what?"

I furrowed my brows. "I don't think it's a good idea."

Sam cast her eyes to the table, her voice dropping low. "Listen… I really… I can't do this without you."

It left me floored. I knew how hard it had to be for her to admit something like that, and to see her, so lonely in that chair, knowing how much she depended on Carly, I found myself giving in.

"Sam… we need to be practical about this… at least," I sighed. Whether I really felt it or not, a little piece of me still hated losing to her. "I've got some money saved up too. We can use that. We will have to drive. Remember? They won't even let you on a plane."

She grinned sheepishly. "Well… that guy took my porkchops."

"You stabbed him with a fork."

"Mama fights for her food."

I shook my head, getting back to the topic at hand. "A-anyway. We've got to plan a route, pack up, and get out without anyone knowing _especially_ my mom. We also can't do anything illegal, _SAM_. She'll send out a notice the moment I go missing."

"Fredula, I'm a pro at avoiding cops. It's in my blood." She stood up, her fries and smoothie cradled in one arm, ruffled my hair (which was already pretty out of place), and headed to the door. "Text me. Oh, and pay for my stuff."

I shouldn't have expected any different, but I couldn't help but feel a smile crack across my lips.

We were going to get Carly back. We just had to.


	3. Chapter 2

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**Chapter Two**

**--**

It was about three in the morning when I dragged myself out of bed and snuck my suitcase and duffel bag down the fire escape, carefully avoiding any chance of stumbling across my mother. It gave me a sick feeling in my stomach, knowing that I was breaking the rules. It was a feeling that was more than likely implanted in me with the Mexican tracking device that made me speak Spanish for so many years. I learned about it after my mom figured out where I was just one too many times, and promptly had it removed. My Spanish grades suffered though.

My phone vibrated against my thigh, just as I slung my suitcase into the trunk. It was a text from Sam.

_Hey. Wtng 4 u. im outside._

This was going to be a crazy ride.

"What took you?" She asked roughly as I pulled up in front of her apartment.

"Sorry. I had to be extra quiet so I wouldn't wake my mom. I had to drive without headlights until I got out of Bushwell!"

"Dude… your mom… she's nuts."

"You don't have to tell me," I said, helping her with her bags, even though she looks a little put off by it. "These have clothes in them right? I know you have the tendency to avoid clothing and carry food."

"One for clothes, one for food. We can always wash clothes." In a way, it was actually well thought out.

Well, it would be cheaper in the long run, I supposed.

"Alright. Through the one of food in the back seat. That way we don't have to stop when you get hungry."

She smirked. "Mama gets hungry pretty often." She yawned. "Tired right now though. Glad you're driving."

I rolled my eyes. "I wouldn't trust you behind the wheel of my car, trust me."

"That's the way I like it. The lazy way." She slid into the passenger seat, leaning her seat back so she could be a little more comfortable. "To New York!"

To New York, indeed.

"Hey, you know what we should do? We should hit Vegas while we're out."

"That's completely out of the way. Besides, don't you want to see Carly?"

"Sure, but hey." She punched me softly in the arm. It still hurt. "It's a road trip of a lifetime."

"Sam, we're not even old enough to—"

"Fredward. I _know_ you made fake ID's for us."

I made a face, pulling away from her apartment and heading onto the main road. "What gave you that idea?"

"Because, if we get a ticket or something, you don't want your name to get out to mommy dearest. And you definitely made yourself older. Cause you want to be older so bad it's not even funny. Well, it's a little funny."

She caught me. I sighed. "They're in the glove compartment. But we are _not_ going to Vegas."

The roads were clear at the hour we left, and Sam curled up in the seat with a mischievous look, and fell asleep. I merged onto I-90 in silence, and as the sun began to rise, I knew there was no turning back. I looked at Sam, slumbering next to me, her hair unkempt, framing her face, her face looking pale in the dawning light. She hadn't even changed. She was still in her baggy, Girly Cow pajama bottoms (which looked like some she stole from Spencer, which was actually less strange than thinking she bought them) and a black, fitted t-shirt. She had slipped her feet out of the pair of flip flops she'd worn out and stuck them up on my dashboard again, though this time leaving no prints. Her toenails were painted black, matching her fingernails, and it struck me sadly that Carly had actually painted them, her eyes lost as she sat at Sam's feet just a week before. She had tried to smile, but she'd been more than destracted.

Sam woke up after a couple of hours, and I was actually thankful for it. Sam wasn't exactly the best company, but the car had been so quiet and my eyelids drooped dangerously without a radio to keep me awake. Sam snorted, sitting up and stretching.

"Where are we?"

"We're not even out of Washington yet. We're headed toward Idaho and Montana though. It'll be a good six hours or so before we reach Montana though. We'll have to stop somewhere along the way though, I'm sure."

"Yeah," Sam replied absently, straightening the back of her seat and reaching into the back seat for her bag. "Where's my bacon?"

"Ooh, pass me a piece." She handed me one and I munched on it as I drove. The bacon wasn't fresh by any means, and tasted a bit more like a dog treat than it did a breakfast side dish. But it was something to keep me focused on and awake. "How much meat did you pack?"

"Did you expect me to pack anything besides meat?"

"Well… candy."

She raised an eyebrow. "I may have packed my secret stash of candy. Get your own."

"Hey, I got up before dawn to drive you to New York City. I'm paying for the gasoline that goes in this baby. I think I've earned a chocolate bar."

That was the thing with Sam. Even though we argued constantly, we had grown to be typically civil to each other, if not friendly. I'd gotten used to her teasing. It was more of a friendship thing than a rival thing. Sure, sometimes she crossed the line – well, lots of times – but all together we had started to get along. And I got in a zinger occasionally.

We were already getting on the outskirts of civilization – into the more mountainous part of Washington, and I continued to munch on bacon. I felt oddly good, the guilt of leaving my mother only a small twinge in my gut. I felt independent for one of the first times in my life – which was good, because once I returned, I'd probably end up chained to my dresser until school started back. I figured I should make the most of it.

"I wonder what New York is like…" I mused, not taking my eyes off the road.

"I dunno. Big. Not Japan big, but big. I guess it's pretty gritty too. I guess we'll just have to find out." Sam turned on the radio and flipped through stations until she found a song that she liked, then proceeded to play air-drums until it was complete. I started to think Sam might be pretty fucking awesome at the drums. It was beating on things. That was her specialty. "I wonder what Carly thinks of it."

"I don't know that either. I guess we'll just have to ask her when we get there, huh?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

So we were definitely civil – though it felt a bit awkward without Carly there. I knew Sam was trying hard to be kind because it was my car that was taking her to Carly, and I could just as easily turn it around and say fuck it. Well, maybe not that exactly. I may have toughened up a bit, but I didn't have that kind of willpower.

"So I wonder if your mom has figured out you're missing yet."

"Yeah, she has," I replied. "She's been blowing up my phone for a good half hour. I think I have about 600 text messages and 400 voicemails."

"Ooh, Fredward Benson. You're being all hardcore, not answering mommy's calls."

"You know how she is. She'd guilt me into coming back. I can't talk to her until I'm too far away to care what she thinks."

"Don't you think that's already started?" Sam asked, and she actually looked pretty impressed.

I've never been sure why it felt so good to impress Sam Puckett. Maybe it was because she always ripped on me, picked out my flaws, made me feel less than worthy to be in her presence. So to be who I was and to impress her was quite a feat.

She ruined the moment however by pinching my cheek and talking to me in baby talk. "Fweddie's all gwown up!"

I swerved a bit, just dodging an oncoming Suburban and flying back into my lane. "Sam!"

She just cackled.

It was going to be a long trip.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

I pulled into a parking lot somewhere outside Spokane, feeling exhausted after an unexpected seven hours worth of driving.

"Hell of a traffic jam. Who would have thought that semi truck would have turned over and shut down the interstate?" Sam kicked her legs out of the car and stood, stretching. "I gotta pee like crazy." She hobbled rather quickly into the gas station and I sat back in my seat and rubbed my eyes. It wasn't going as planned. We had wasted a lot of time sitting on the interstate and now we had to get a hotel in Idaho instead of Montana.

Well, at least we didn't have anywhere we particularly _had_ to be.

Sam came back with a large Styrofoam cup, sipping a slurpee idly. "You look tired."

I glared, not wanting to deal with blunt obviousness. "Duh." I ran my hands down my face. "I hate traffic. I can't believe you made me do this."

"No regrets, Freddork," Sam replied, giving a somewhat painful punch to my shoulder. "We're in Idaho!"

I stared at her flatly. "Sam, that's only one state over."

She shrugged. "I didn't pay attention in Geometry."

"…You mean Geography."

"I told you I didn't pay attention!"

"We were in traffic for three hours. God… We need to get a hotel. I don't want to drive anymore today."

Sam made a face, as if she was trying to understand me for a moment, pursing her lips and raising her eyebrows.

"It's cool. I can drive to the hotel."

"Uh uh, no way."

"Fredward, I am a perfectly capable driver."

"Not if you were taught by your mom."

She opened her mouth to argue, then it quickly snapped shut in contemplation. "Good point…. You still haven't forgiven her for destroying locker 239, have you?"

I pouted. "Not only did I lose the best locker in the school, I also lost two hundred dollars, _and_ I got detention for two months."

Sam smiled, fondly remembering. "Those were a fun two months. Wow, two is _not_ your lucky number."

"You spent the majority of detention playing pranks on me."

"Ooh, remember that one where I-"

I held up a hand to silence her. Surprisingly it worked. "Not in the mood."

She put her hands on her hips, and my eyes trailed to them. Her belt looked like a seatbelt, and I wondered vaguely if she'd actually made it from one.

"You're cranky today," she said. "Fine. You drive." She put her hand on the top of my head, her nails scratching against my scalp. "Hey. Heeeey. Come on. You want to go to the hotel right? Focus."

"Alright, alright," I waved my hands, but she did get a smile out of me. "Hop in. I'm sure there's one down the road."

Sam slid into the passenger seat and drew her knees up, watching the scenery as we pulled out of the gas station and into the street. She had a soft smile on her face, and I could tell she was lost in her thoughts.

I decided not to disturb her. When her mind drifted, it drifted far.

Given we were in a rather small town that probably wasn't even a dot on a map, it took a bit longer to find a hotel than I expected. I finally dragged the vehicle into a tiny parking lot, lurching to a stop in front of a sign reading _Blue House Bed and Breakfast_. Which was exactly what it was.

The powder blue house rose in front of us as we dragged ourselves out of the car, laced with a soft white trim, almost like an oversized dollhouse. I knew that if Carly had been with us, she would have been thrilled to see it.

"…Cute… I guess," Sam said. "If you think things like this are cute."

"Carly would."

"…I know," Sam said softly.

We trudged forward to check for vacancies.

Inside, the place looked even more like a dollhouse. It was actually a bit disturbing how pristine and lacy everything was. Even Sam withered a little bit. She probably hadn't been around so much girly stuff since her last trip to Build-a-Bra.

"Wow," she muttered, though she was far from impressed.

"Hello!"

We both nearly jumped out of our skin as an old woman popped up from underneath the front desk, a wide smile on her wrinkled features.

"Sorry about that. Dropped my pen. Can I get a room for you two?"

"Uh… yeah…" I said slowly, eying her with paranoia.

"Newlyweds?"

"What?! NO!" We answered in unison.

"Oh, that's just lovely. Arnold, isn't that just lovely, these two newlyweds?"

"Eh?" An elderly man shuffled out of what looked like a kitchen, moving slower than I had ever seen a human being move. He craned his neck, curving his hand over his ear. "EH?"

"_Newlyweds,_ dear! They're newlyweds! Isn't that sweet?"

"We're not—Oh, forget it," I sighed. "Can we have a room please?"

"Here you are, dearie! You two are gonna be on the second floor, first door to your right." She pinched my cheek and then went back to her work. "It's only ninety dollars a night. Breakfast is at seven."

I nodded, a little worriedly. I wasn't sure if I trusted the couple around a stove. Regardless, we gathered our luggage and made our way upstairs.

"That old lady was creepy."

"Yeah, no kidding. Lock the door. I don't want anybody knocking down the door and chopping us up with an axe or anything."

We had only brought up a couple of things, since we were only staying one night, and I laid my clothes on the dresser for the next day, right next to Sam's pile. She was locking the door when I neatly folded her clothing, despite the look she was giving me.

"Taking an opportunity to touch my underwear, Freddifer?" Her voice was warning me. I hadn't even thought about it, staring at the garments in my hands before jumping back and letting them fly to the dresser, as if they had scalded my hands.

"Ah!" I felt my face flush bright red. "I'm… sorry."

She rolled her eyes. "Their panties, Fredula, nothing that dramatic. Haven't you ever folded your mom's underwear?"

I shuddered. "No!" She thought on it and she shuddered too. Still, I couldn't shut my mouth because I had the tendency to be quite a nub. "When did you start wearing girlie underwear anyway? You always used to go on and on about how boxers were more comfortable."

Sam's eyes were fiery, glaring me down with bright blue pin size pupils. "Are you really talking about my underwear?"

I floundered. "But you just said it wasn't that dramatic!"

She folded the lacy black scrap of fabric and shoved it between her shirt and her jeans, eyebrows knitted. "I just did, okay? Jeez. That's kinda personal don't you think? You can sleep on the floor."

She roughly tossed a pillow to the floor and plopped on the bed, facing the wall. I glared back, but I really only had the guts to do so with her back turned.

"You're fucking bi-polar, you know that?" I rolled my eyes and slumped into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me. I didn't particularly have to go, but I was a little worried she'd attack me for the comment.

My phone vibrated in my pocket again, and I sighed, sitting on the side of the tub and pulling it out to look. _You have 756 Unread Text Messages._

"Good Lord."

755 of them were from my mother.

_hey, getting settled in nyc! sams fone is off. tell her were safe n 2 call me. xoxo carly_

I stared at it, pangs of loneliness threatening to overwhelm me for a moment. After all, I really didn't get the chance to grieve like I wanted. No matter what we were planning, there was still the thought in the back of my mind that Carly had left for good and would be gone forever. I didn't even know what to text back. I couldn't possibly tell her what Sam and I were doing. What if I couldn't do it? What if I got cold feet and turned tail running? At the same time, it was hard for me to lie to her. So I said nothing. I turned my phone off, just until I could figure out what to do.

I ran my hands down my face. Even after all the difficulties I had with Sam Puckett over the years, my stomach still dreaded that this was going to be far more difficult than my brain wanted to think it was. Maybe this was all a big mistake. Maybe I would return home before even leaving Idaho, to my mother who would probably bolt my doors and windows shut and never let me leave ever again. I would have to eat asparagus every night and go back to taking tick baths, even though I had already insisted that I was much too old to have my mom assist in my bathing. God, she could even take me back to mother-son synchronized swimming in that awful speedo. The punishments could be dire.

I didn't know whether it tempted me to go back and save my ass or… keep moving and save my ass.

I missed Carly. I missed her more than anything in the world.

A soft knock perked my ears, and I stared at the door for a moment, wondering if I had actually heard it.

"What?" I asked, a bit snippy.

"That old lady came up here… she brought us cookies."

"Which you already ate, I assume."

A sigh. "I saved you one. Jeez, Fredward, I have self-control."

I opened the door, leaning against the frame. "I know. You _choose_ to eat all of them without a second thought."

I still pushed past her and munched on the treat before she decided to eat it anyway. "I got a text from Carly," I said with a full mouth. "She's in New York."

"Really?!" Sam's voice changed drastically, it was lighter, almost desperate. "Is she okay? Where is she staying? Does she know about us coming?"

"Yes, I don't know, and no," I replied. "I… didn't know what to tell her. She wants to talk to you."

"Oh! My phone!" She barreled past me and over the bed to get her phone off the dresser, turning it on. It buzzed as soon as it lit up.

She made the move to text Carly, then hesitated, her energy dying, body slumping.

"What?" I asked, a bit more gently than before.

"I… don't know what to say to her…" Sam said softly. "I mean… I want to be supportive and happy for her… but… we're going to go get her." She turned to me, her eyes wide. "You don't think she's actually going to be happy there, do you?"

I shrugged. I honestly didn't know. "Sam, we can go ask Carly to come back, but we can't make her if she's happy there."

Sam turned away. "She can't be happy there. She just can't be."

"Well… make small talk. See what she says. Don't tell her we're coming."

Sam slowly started to text Carly, her legs folded under her, blonde hair hiding her face from my view. I sat on the other side of the bed, my back to her, just listening to the clicks of her phone, and feeling an odd separation from her.

She was basically enamored with the idea that she could talk to Carly. The rest of the world was shoved out the window when Carly was around. That was what best friends did, I supposed. And yet, as I sat there, I found myself somehow jealous of what they had. They were best friends. They were my two best friends. But it wasn't the same. I knew I would never had what Sam and Carly had, and it was almost frustrating in a way, because I had watched them fight, make up, goof off, scream, cry, live it up, and nearly die. But it wasn't the same. Because they did all those things together. I just watched. I was a witness to their lives, studying through the lens of a camera.

I suddenly felt like I had been missing out on something incredible.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

It was just past midnight when I opened my eyes, my neck aching already from sleeping on the floor. After all, my mother had insisted I had the best mattress for my spine and pillows that would never smother me (even though my mother was pretty damn good at smothering in my opinion), so my back didn't handle something like the hard, flat floor of the room we were renting for the night. I sat up, rubbing my aching shoulders with one hand, running the other through the messy mop on my head that probably mussed more with the action. I looked over to the bed with a glare, jealous of Sam stealing it for herself only to realize that she wasn't in it at all. I blinked, thinking my sleepy eyes were playing tricks on me, rubbed them, and yet gone she remained.

I could hear the shower running. I made a face. That wasn't really like Sam. I figured she could go grimy for days without issues. Getting up in the middle of the night to shower was definitely more of a Carly thing. Then I saw it. Her cell phone was tossed almost casually on the bedside table.

Tempting, but dangerous. I listened for a little longer to make sure the shower was still running, then snatched the device from the table and pulled up her text message inbox.

_hey sam, txt me when u find time xoxo carly_

_ -hey carls, what goes on_

There was a brief conversation, probably what she'd been texting her for the entire time, and I followed the words down until the most recent… from about ten minutes before. It was from Carly.

_its so amazing here. im so excited to get started on this project. i shuld probly go 2 bed now tho. txt me l8r. xoxo carly_

I felt a painful lurch in my chest. _Amazing?_ I put Sam's phone back where I'd found it and drew my knees up to my chest, listening to the water rushing from the wall in the bathroom and wondering how long she'd just been standing in there, letting it beat down on her like a rain shower. I wondered what we were going to do. Were we really too far to turn back? I had a feeling Sam would hit me with that in the morning. We were only one state away after all, and Carly was apparently pretty happy in New York City. She hadn't even mentioned that she missed us. Weren't best friends supposed to miss each other after immediately after one boarded a plane? I sure missed her, and it was obvious how Sam felt.

Then again, Carly could have been lying. She was always the type to put on a smile and pretend everything was okay in order to keep people from worrying. I'd gotten pretty familiar with that look when Sam's mom vanished. She'd insisted Sam was fine then, with that lace of concern in her pretty brown eyes, but I had never believed her – mainly because Sam wasn't as good at hiding it as she thought she was. She'd been very cold in the first few weeks, especially to me. Her teasing had taken on a particularly harsh bite, though I had just let her be the way she was. I didn't have as much hear to fight back because it wasn't a fun fight like usual. I just worried about her. It's kind of my thing, worrying about people. It's Carly's thing too. I think that's why Sam depended on us so heavily during that time, though she never admitted it. I lay back flat as the water shut off and after a few minutes, I saw the light of the bathroom seep from the doorway and out she came, squeezing her sopping hair in a towel and dreadfully quiet.

I heard the mattress give a bit under her tiny frame, and the blankets shift as she tried to get comfortable, and I snuck a glance at her just as her face hit the pillow hard, as if she didn't feel like breathing for a little while. My heart ached for her a little bit, and I thought about speaking, but I knew it would give me away and I would probably get my ass kicked. It just wasn't something I needed. I rolled over on my side, closed my eyes, and tried to forget about it.

Morning came bright and early to a roar in my ears. I groaned, my head aching a little because of my sore neck, blinking sleep out of my eyes in a brief confusion.

"What in the world?" I questioned and my voice was still heavy and drowsy.

Sam sat up, her hair frizzing out in multiple directions, masking her face for the most part. Her eyes were red as she rubbed them sleepily. "What the fuck is that? It's like five a.m."

We both fumbled to our feet and dragged ourselves over to the window to see what the fuss was. As we pushed it open and stared out over the yard, we could just barely make out a shadow in the darkness-before-the-dawn. Then, all of a sudden she appeared in the light streaming from the porch, the old woman, squinting her eyes at us and holding a hand over her brow to focus better.

In her other hand… was a rumbling chainsaw.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't scream. Sam would be too. We clung to each other before fumbling backwards, tripping over the bed and landing halfway on the floor.

"It's true!" I yelped. "She's gonna kill us!"

…We were out before breakfast. Though the freshly chopped down tree in the yard quelled us a little bit, I didn't have the nerve to go back for food. I pulled the car into a Waffle Shack and twirled the keys around my fingers. "This okay? Gotta hit the road hard, y'know? Make some distance."

I knew what I was doing, and by the look on Sam's face as she slumped out of the car and through the parking lot with me, she might have had a clue.

"Y-yeah. Long distance."

I felt guilty, but I kept plugging as I opened the door for her. "You think Carly's on to us?"

"No, I doubt it. She can be kinda dense sometimes."

"Hey," I stopped her at the table she picked, which still looked like it had crumbs on it. "Are you okay?"

She made a face halfway between confusion and annoyance. "I'm tired."

"You've been acting weird since Carly texted you last night."

Her jaw tightened as a warning for me not to go there, when a waitress broke the tension. She was a young girl with red hair and redder lips and bright green eyes. She leaned on one hip as she flashed us a pretty smile. "What can I get you to drink?"

"Orange juice please," I said.

"Coffee," Sam responded bluntly. "Black."

"Alrighty," she replied cheerfully despite Sam's gloomy response. "When you're ready to order, please let me know."

She moved on to another table for a minute then promptly returned with my juice and Sam's coffee. She drank it slowly, staring blankly at the menus.

"You… still want to do this right?"

Sam drummed her fingers on the table. "Of course I do. I don't chicken out of things. Let's go to New York."

I smiled in spite of myself. "You're sure?"

"Yeah, of course." She leaned on one hand, staring at the menu again. "Carly's having a great time there… but… I don't know. I feel like we should try at least, right?"

I felt better, but she still looked uneasy as the waitress returned. "So, do you know what you want?"

"I'll have buttermilk waffles, please," I said. "What do you want, Sam?"

"I want four chocolate chip pancakes, three doughnuts, a ham and cheese omelet, and two more cups of coffee please. Oh, and a slice of ham and four strips of bacon."

The waitress looked much more surprised than I expected. Then I remembered we had never been outside an area where Sam's eating habits were known.

"R-right."

After about an hour, our meals had been delivered and eaten and Sam was patting her stomach lovingly. Of course, when I'd gotten up to use the restroom, I'd returned to find one of my waffles promptly chewed on.

"Mama loves some Waffle Shack."

"Clearly," I said, amused, downing the rest of my orange juice. "We should get going-"

Something was wrong. It struck me quickly. My head began to swim and the world began to slow. I stood, but my knees buckled and I looked to Sam, terrified. The edges of my vision began to gray and blur, and suddenly I was falling, falling, falling.

"What—"

Blackout. I was down for the count.

Singing. I heard singing. I flinched and stirred a bit, groaning. There was a cool breeze running through my hair that felt pretty good, but the music blasting into my ears ruined it. Sam was singing at the top of her lungs, and I was sure I was delirious because there was no way she was that good a singer.

Oh, and we were moving. There was no way that was happening either. I sat up abruptly and my vision swam again for a second and I turned to Sam, who had her hands on the steering wheel, hair blowing in the wind from the windows being down, and ignoring me as she drove my car.

"SAM! What the hell!"

"Oh, hey!" she yelled over the noise. "You're awake!"

I couldn't stop myself. "What the fuck did you do?"

"Naughty mouth, Freddifer. Mommy might make you eat soap!"

Infuriated, I slammed my hand into the power button on the radio, turning it off, leaving nothing but the roar of the air in my ears. Sam furrowed her brows.

"Jeez. Touchy."

"You—YOU DRUGGED ME!" I accused.

"Hey, maybe that waitress did it. She totally wanted to jump your nerdy bones."

"Sam—Where are we?"

As if to answer my question, we passed a I-15 sign.

"I-Interstate fifteen? That's not on the route…"

I looked at her incredulously. She had decided to watch the road. The look on her face was the same one that she would get when caught red-handed doing something particularly heinous, in which she pursed her lips and her eyes darted a bit like a caged animal's. I stared at for a little longer as it started to sink in.

"You are _not_ driving us to Vegas."

"Hey, we've already been on the road for six hours. It'd be stupid to turn back now."

"WHAT?" I nearly jumped out of my seat. "SIX HOURS?"

"Yeah. I stopped to put gas in the car and stuff. That gas station attendant totally hit on me. It was gross. He had a mouth full of rotting teeth. Gross."

"Sam! You drugged me and took my keys and you expect me to be okay with this?"

"I could've just left you at the Waffle Shack. Would you have preferred that?"

I just couldn't believe it. "I… I thought you wanted to go see Carly!"

"Hey, we can still go to New York. We've got all summer! Might as well enjoy the trip."

I glared at her, knowing that we'd lose probably just as much time turning around as we would going to Vegas. She'd made sure I had no out. Still, the look in her eyes puzzled me – it wasn't as challenging as always, like maybe I could get through to her, and yet it was also a little sad – sad enough to shut me up momentarily. Her shoulders were just pushed forward enough to show it as she glowered at the road in front of her, the wind blowing her hair wildly as she continued quickly down the interstate. I didn't ask. I hated my lack of nerve.

I crossed my arms, huffing and leaning back in my seat, feeling defeated and irritated.

"I can't believe you did this," I grumbled.

"Really? You can't believe it at all? Come on, Diphead, how long have you known me?" She punched me in the arm, and I assumed it was a playful punch though it hurt like hell. "It's Vegas! Trust me. You'll like it."

"How could even begin to think so? You don't know hardly anything about me."

"Pffff, I know more about you than you think I do. I also know that there's a risk taker in there dying to break free of mommy's clutches."

I subconsciously checked my text messages. Lo and behold I had enough to fill up my phone memory. I groaned.

"If we don't hurry this trip up, my phone's going to explode."

Sam grinned. "Well, at least then she can't bother you."

"I'm surprised she hasn't figured out I'm with you and started sending you death threats."

"Eh, I doubt anyone even knows I'm missing," she said, and her voice dropped off a bit and I felt guilty.

The road whizzed by my window and I leaned on my hand. So we were going to Vegas. I just had to deal with it.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

We travelled a few more hours before Sam finally pulled off an exit near Salt Lake City. Her energy had seemed to die after a good eight to nine hours on the road, and she might have been regretting taking the wheel, but would never admit it. She pulled into a hotel parking lot that all together looked a little dingy, but we were tired and didn't feel like spending another half hour looking for something classier. It wasn't a "roach motel" or anything - after all, and we had stayed in far worse when we had gone to take on the Dingo Channel for stealing jokes from iCarly. I really hated that I didn't get to see Sam pound Dingo Channel executives with a butter-filled sock.

"Damn, what a drive. I thought Vegas was closer. Looks pretty short on that map."

I rolled my eyes. "The map isn't to scale, Sam."

"I know that, nub. I'm not an idiot."

"Yeah, well, last I checked, you weren't paying attention in Geography."

"What do shapes have to do with this?"

"GEMOETRY Sam, you're talking about geometry."

"Whatever."

She was grumpy to say the least. But then again, I wasn't exactly peachy either. The initial adrenaline rush that came from sneaking out of my house and heading off to New York to sweep a girl off her feet enough to convince her to return with me and Sam had long worn off over the miles and Sam's constantly souring attitude. I was starting to think her text message session with Carly had completely defeated her, because she didn't even seem to want to think about going to New York City, choosing to concentrate on the louder, flashier Las Vegas.

"Can I have my keys?" I groaned, following her through the door and plopping down on the bed.

"Hell no."

"What? Why?"

"Because you could turn around and go back. We're going to Vegas."

"Sam, it'd be pretty dumb to want to turn back now."

"I know. That's exactly why you would do it."

I glared at Sam, though she didn't see it because she wasn't facing me.

"Fine. But if you want to reach Vegas, we need to leave early in the morning. So you better get up and put gas in the car before we leave."

"We've got all summer. Don't know why you're in such a hurry."

"Well, what if we get there too late and Carly wants to stay in New York?"

Sam visibly flinched on her way to the bathroom, though clearly decided not to answer. She sniffed her armpit instead.

"Woo, momma's a little grungy."

She went digging in her suitcase, yanking out some pajama bottoms and a tanktop and retreated behind the bathroom door. As she showered, I was tempted to grab her phone and look through it again, but I decided against it. I was already feeling guilty at looking at it in the first place.

I looked at my phone, deleting a massive amount of text messages, only to watch my inbox start to fill again, and I was tempted to text my mother back just to let her know I was okay. Still, if she caught any wind as to where I was, she'd be there in a flash, so I would have to be careful. So careful, in fact, that I was pretty sure I couldn't do it.

_Freddie, where are you? -Mom_

_Freddie, I'm worried. Please text me back. -Mom_

_Freddie, check your voicemail. –Mom_

I had to, but I only checked the latest.

"Freddie," Mom's worried voice strained on the phone. "It's mommy… please call me. You just disappeared… Honey, I'm… I'm not mad, I promise. Please just call me. Come home!"

I frowned. She was full of shit if she was saying she wasn't mad. Sure, she was probably more terrified than angry, but I didn't want to calmly explain to her why I had to leave while she irrationally screamed at me over the phone before calling the police. Actually, she would probably find some way to trace the call.

No, I couldn't do it. Not then. Maybe never. I knew my punishment would be one of biblical proportions, but it couldn't be helped. I turned on the television and began flipping channels. Nothing perked my interests. My head was starting to ache, maybe from the heat outside or maybe from the guilt-trip my mom was currently subconsciously putting me through. I left the television on an old black and white show called _I Love Libby_, and stared at it as if I could actually soak in the plot. My brain had shut down momentarily.

My phone buzzed again and I lifted it to my face. It was actually from Carly.

_Is evrything ok? Ur mom txtd me. Sed u wrnt home._

"….Fuck."

Sam stepped out of the bathroom in her pajamas, her hair still sopping wet as she dabbed at it with a towel. "Mommy catching on?"

"No. Carly is." I held up my phone as if it would explain for me.

"Gimme that," Sam growled, closing the distance and jumping onto my hotel room bed like a feral cat, ripping the cell phone from my clutches and sitting on my stomach.

"Must you crush me?"

"I'm not crushing you."

I squirmed under her. "You're heavier than you look, you know. You may have a great figure but you still eat like a t-rex!"

Sam was scrolling through my texts. She shoved her foot in my face. "Shut up. Fuck. You're right."

"I'm glad your foot's clean at least," I growled, my voice muffled.

"Why did your mom text her?"

"Because—" I rolled my eyes, shoving her off of me. "Get off!"

She chuckled and a slight scuffle ensued. I managed to pin her down on the bed, my hands clasped around her wrists. "Because I just drove off in the middle of the night, and since I'm not answering her, I guess she assumed I was with Carly."

Sam had a strange look on her face, and her breath grew shallow for just a moment before her eyes glistened in mischief. "Tell her you're pinning me down on a bed. That'll keep mommy busy."

The sudden realization of our position struck panic into my heart and I stumbled off of her and promptly off the bed, where I clocked my head against the nightstand.

"Aaagh!" I wailed, clutching my now fully pounding skull as she laughed.

"Epic fail," Sam giggled, leaning on one hand, peering down at me from the bed. "Guess you like sleeping on the floor, huh?"

I merely whimpered in pain. My headache bloomed in my skull until the lights felt blurry and I wanted to knock her against the nightstand and see how she felt.

"Damn it, Sam."

"I didn't do it. You fell."

I didn't really care how it happened. I just wanted her to be responsible. She sighed, and I felt her feet hit the floor next to me. She kneeled down in front of me and lifted my head.

"Eh, you're fine. Quit bitching."

"What are we… gonna do about Carly?" I sighed, rubbing my temples.

"I'll text her. Don't worry."

"Woah, woah, no way. I don't trust you texing Carly with my phone. There's no telling what you'll say."

"It's easy. _Mom's freaking out over nothing._ It answers her question and keeps it vague to throw off Carly and your mom."

"You didn't think I could come up with that?" I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut, my ears ringing. "Ahh, are you sure my head's okay?"

"No, nubs aren't that clever. And you're fine. You're just too mothered."

I sighed. "Maybe. Just do it. Then turn the damn thing off. I need sleep."

She smiled. "I'm influencing you, potty mouth." She stepped over me and plopped down on her own bed.

"Yeah, maybe too much." I grumbled, finally clambering onto my own bed, deciding to shower in the morning. "I still pinned you."

"Careful, Fredward."

She turned off the light and rolled over. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to sleep away my headache in the glow of the television.

I dreamed that night, of Carly leaving me and Sam behind, turning away with a smile. And in that dream, Sam clung to me, staring after her with wide eyes. I turned to her, puzzled.

I felt a tug at my wrists. I noticed then that a long red string was wrapped around both of them, stretched in different directions, one attached to Sam, and one attached to Carly, and they were attached to each other too. Except the strings wrapped around Carly's wrists were fraying and withering as she walked away from us.

"Why don't you go after her?"

She looked up at me. "Do you want me to leave you?"

Suddenly I was choked up for no reason, my throat burning and my eyes watering. I looked back at Carly who suddenly crumbled into a pile of dust. The strings fell limply to the ground.

"No…" My knees felt weak and I fell to the floor, tears leaking from my eyes.

"Did you scrape your knee?" Sam asked, but she sounded more like my mother.

I nodded, though I knew that wasn't why I was crying.

"It's okay," she said. "You can still walk."

My head ached violently and it made that red, withering string even brighter in my eyes, burning my retinas and I wailed in pain, falling onto my back. Then, as I drifted vaguely through the dust that was once Carly blowing around me, the wind a cold slap on my skin, I felt my pain slip away, and a soft hand brushing over my forehead, through my hair, comforting me. I felt myself drift away.

Morning came and I groaned against my pillow. I wanted to sleep later, but I could hear Sam shuffling around in the room, grumbling.

"Damn it, what did I do with it?"

I sat up, blinking sleep out of my eyes. "With whaa-a—a-"

Sam whirled around and she was standing in her blue jeans and a lacy black and purple bra, her cleavage spilling forward in a way that I could only say was incredible. I was left with my mouth hanging open.

"My shirt. I can't find it."

"Oh—um… really…" I stammered, not really listening, just staring. I blamed my male hormones. "That's… that's too bad."

"Like what you see, Fredwad?"

My mouth went dry and I hurriedly shook my head. "N-no! I m-mean… they're grea—no. No."

She smirked. "And we all thought you were a good little boy. Guess you're more corrupted than I thought, you dirty pervert. Ah, here it is." She yanked the red t-shirt over her torso, then flipped her hair off her shoulders. "You told me to be up early. Get up. We're going to get to Vegas today and Mama's hungry."

I paused for a moment, gathering my bearings again. "We're not eating at Waffle Shack."

Sam pulled her hair up in a ponytail and for a minute I almost double-taked in the idea of Melanie standing in front of me, but I didn't say anything because I had already said the wrong thing that morning.

"We can hit up WacDonald's if you get your ass up. Breakfast ends at ten-thirty you know."

"What time is it?" Suddenly I felt like a million years had passed, my dream washing over me like a cold shower.

Sam checked her phone. "It's nine-thirty, but you're all grimy. Take a shower."

I nodded slowly, still feeling a little dazed. It must have shown on my face because Sam gave me a puzzled look.

"What's wrong with you? All the blood rush from your brain?"

I shook my head, looking down at the ugly hotel comforter, depression weighing on me. "N-no. It's not that. It was just…" I shook my head again. "Don't worry about it."

"Well, alright. I'll go get us some breakfast. What do you want?"

"I… I really don't care. Get me whatever."

She shrugged. "Okay. You know you're giving me a perfect opportunity to-" She trailed off, watching me quizzically again. "Ah, screw it. Go get cleaned up. Maybe you can start acting normal again."

She sauntered out of the room, twirling the car keys around her index finger.

I ran my hands down my face. I wasn't sure what my dream was about. Everything felt so complex and sad and hard to understand. I was worried my guilt might be eating me alive. I looked at my phone, sighing, seeing there was a text from Carly.

_ I'm glad. I miss you too. Xoxo Carly_

I raised an eyebrow. "What did Sam text you?" I scrolled through my sent messages and found it.

_Mom's making a fuss, that's all. Don't worry about it. Sam and I really miss you, but we're doing our best to get along for all our sakes, I guess._

I was actually surprised. Sam added a lot more than I would expect, and not one insulting thing was said. It was gentle, almost as if I actually had written it myself. And the words _I miss you_ sent an extra painful pang into my heart, perhaps because I heard it in Sam's voice too. Because if anyone missed Carly more than I did, it was probably Sam. I didn't want to even think of factoring Spencer into the equation, who had probably retreated back to his humble abode… alone.

I wanted to cry again.

I decided to shower instead.

"You look like a drowned rat."

"Thank you, that's one of the more flattering things you've said to me," I responded quickly, draping a towel around my neck.

"That's better. I got you a Wacky Muffin and… some hashbrowns… and an iced coffee."

"Oh, thanks," I replied, taking the small bag from her as she piled a good six or seven bags on her bed. "…Sam, did you have to order the entire menu?"

"I'm hungry," she said plainly, taking a large bite of a Wacky Waffle Sandwich, which consisted of bacon and eggs and cheese shoved between two waffles – which seemed like one of Sam's more disgusting delicacies. She then spoke with her mouth full of food. "Eat your breakfast so we can go to Vegas."

I sighed, feeling a smile tug at my lips. Sam may have been awfully insulting and… well… gross from time to time, but she was familiar, and it felt good to have her there, in a whirlwind of changes in my life. And her red string was still attached, I supposed. I wasn't completely alone. I sat opposite her and unwrapped my food.

"So, why Vegas?"

"What do you mean?"

"You drugged me. You could have driven us anywhere. Why Vegas?"

She shrugged. "Seems like the perfect place for me. You know, my mom met my dad in Vegas?"

"That explains a lot," I said, taking a large bite out of my Wacky Muffin and swallowing it. It was fattening and greasy and yet quite good.

"Hey," she growled, though her voice immediately dropped. "They loved each other… for a little while anyway."

My smile faded a little bit, watching her, hunched over her massive breakfast. "I'm sorry."

"Don't mention it." She looked up at me, a warning look. "Ever."

"…Got it."


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

I adjusted my glasses on my face as I jumped out of another doze against the passenger seat window. My skin was a little wet with condensation from breathing against it, and Sam was fiddling with radio and grumbling as she drove.

"Can't get a station."

"We're in the desert. Of course you can't. There's nothing here."

"We're only an hour outside of Vegas."

I sat up, blinking sleep from my eyes. "Maybe we're getting interference from something." I fiddled with the buttons and gauges in hopes of hitting a station Sam would listen to. "You could just grab a CD."

"You listen to crappy music."

"No, I don't," I argued, opening the compartment between us and flipping through the cases of CD's. "I've got that old Cuttlefish album. I know you liked that. You wore it out the summer it came out."

"Yeah," Sam sighed, looking a bit nostalgic. "That was the summer mom crashed the car and me and Carly were in the hospital for a couple of weeks."

I looked out the window. I remembered that day. I had been absolutely terrified. I preferred not to think about it. "Can't believe Spencer ever let Carly ride with you guys again."

"Me neither, to be honest. We're not the best decision makers."

"You did get into her car after she had eye surgery."

"Yep. But I made a lot of money off you that day too. And we didn't hit too much stuff."

"Your mom backed through our school's wall."

"I meant after that."

"Yeah, okay."

"You want a snack? I got Fatcakes in the back."

"Um, yes," Sam responded with a smile, as if it was the dumbest question I'd ever asked. Well, it wasn't the dumbest, but it was pretty dumb.

"Alright, hang on." I unclicked my seatbelt and flopped over the passenger seat to grab a few Fatcakes and some potato chips from the bag of snacks I had packed. I tossed her a few over my shoulder, and when I managed to flip back into my seat and click my seatbelt, munching on some chips, they were still sitting idly in her lap. "…Sam?"

She shook her head, seeming to come out of a haze. "Hm? What?"

"Fatcakes?"

"Oh, right. Thanks." She tore the packaging with her teeth then sang, "_I don't need nooothin' but a Fatcake._" Then she shoved the whole thing in her mouth, puffing out her cheeks as she chewed.

"You can take bites of that you know."

"Bleeeeh." She stuck her tongue out at me, covered in the creamy residue of the Fatcake, and I grimaced.

"What were you so hazy about?"

She clamped her mouth shut in surprise and nearly drove off the road before catching the wheel. "I guess I was just getting road hypnosis."

"Road hypnosis?" I asked dubiously.

"Yeah, you know. When you're tired and the road just goes on and on and you just kinda fade away?"

"Yeah, I guess I know what you mean," I lied. It was bothering me, the look on her face. She really did it a lot more after her mom vanished, and after spending a few days straight with her, it was becoming more and more obvious to me that something might be wrong.

Carly would be determined to fix it. But Carly was Sam's best friend. Hell, Carly probably knew why. I felt like I was an audience member to a very confusing play. Then again, Sam's life was always a strange mystery to me, and not the kind that Scooby Doo and company could solve. It was far more complicated than a man in a mask that could be outdone by meddling kids.

Sam's mom was always an interesting character to me. She probably didn't care much for me, of course, but she just brushed off most of Sam's friends. She had other priorities. I always figured she just liked Carly because Sam was safe with her. And it was true. Sam was at Carly's more than she was at home. And when Carly had been out of time, Sam had occasionally appeared at my window in the middle of the night, or made the trek home with me from school. She never stopped insulting me or anything, but I always wondered why her home was so strictly off-limits. I had been there on occasion, and though it was pretty messy, nothing seemed too out of the ordinary.

Of course, as I had learned with over the many dinners my mom had hosted over the years, guests never saw the _real_ home.

"So I'm curious…"

"What's that?" Sam asked through another mouthful of Fatcake.

"What's it like, y'know… living on your own?"

"Oh, it's… different," Sam offered, shrugging. "But kind of the same, I guess. Sucks that I have to pay for all my own stuff, but Carls and Spence help out from time to time." She paused. "Your mom even gave me money one day. I couldn't believe it."

Neither could I. "What? When?"

"It was awhile ago, after mom disappeared. I was headed up to Carly's and your mom just gave me this sad look and handed me fifty bucks."

I stared at her as she drove, still reeling from the information. I knew Sam's mom probably didn't care for me much, but I was definitely extremely positive that _my_ mother couldn't _stand_ Sam Puckett. The whole idea of her just giving Sam money threw me for a loop.

"…Why?"

"I don't know," Sam said. "Maybe she was missing you or something? You were off to visit your grandma in Wyoming."

"You must have said something to her. She wouldn't just… give you money like that."

"Well…" Sam sighed. "I guess you're gonna keep looking at me until I tell the whole story, huh, nub?"

"I'm not a nub."

"You've been a nub since you were born. Get used to it."

I grumbled incoherently. Even I was unsure of what I was saying, just various angry words.

"Look, when I… saw your mom, I was a little beat up is all. I got into a fight with one of mom's boyfriends. He came sniffing around looking for her and tried to break in when I told him she wasn't there and I had to rough him up a little."

"_A little_ meaning…?"

"I threw him out the window."

I raised my eyebrows. "On the fifth story?"

"Uh, yeah. He made a pass at me. Totally hit me in the face. So I threw him out the window."

I didn't think my jaw could drop any lower. "He hit you? He… he hit _on_ you?"

She smirked, drawling, "Shocking, I know. I can handle myself, you know. Just bruised up my eye real bad. And I cut up my hands throwing him through the glass. I guess your mom felt guilty or something."

I looked down at my lap, feeling anger and worry bubble under my skin. My mom shouldn't have been the one to feel guilty. Sam's mom had disappeared and left her daughter to deal with her baggage. It wasn't fair, and it infuriated me.

"I can't believe you're still living there."

"Well, y'know. I don't spend a lot of time there. I'm at school a lot, and… Carly's of course…"

I was beginning to understand even more, how important Carly was to Sam. While I was a friend to each of them – even though Sam was not one to admit it – Carly was family. Carly was Sam's safe place, a chance to get away from a life that was less than stellar and step into a world that she could only dream about before.

Now, with Carly away in New York… that dream was tarnished. Or worse. Completely swept away.

"Well, I'm sure Spencer will still let you visit… and you can always visit me, y'know. If my mom saw you like that, she must have an idea of what you're going through. She'd let you stay."

"I don't want to be around your whackjob mom."

I glared. "She's not a whackjob, Sam. She's gotten a lot better over the past few years!"

"Pfff, that's why she's literally blowing up your phone. Screw that, man. Your mom's insane."

"Oh, and _your_ mom isn't?" I yelled back, defending my mother.

Sam jerked the car off the road so quickly that my head slammed against the passenger side window as the car came to a stop. When I got my bearings and looked at her, she was practically seething at me.

"Fuck you," she growled. "Fuck you and you're crazy mom. You're not better than me, Benson!"

I'd gone too far. Her face was glowing red in anger as she unclicked her seatbelt.

"Sam-" She grabbed me by the hair of my head and slammed it against the window again. I yelped as the pain bloomed in the side of my skull and Sam flopped back into the driver's seat.

"Next time, I'll leave you on the side of the fucking road, so watch your mouth, Benson."

She threw the car back into gear and slammed on the gas, squealing the tires before managing to merge back onto the road. I slumped against the window, my head pounding again, but too prideful to reach up and rub the offensive spot. Sam had grown dangerously quiet, and as my eyes cast in her direction, I could see her jaw almost quivering it was so taught.

"Sam…"

"Shut up, okay? Just shut up."

"…I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

"Just forget it, okay?"

The rest of the ride continued in silence.

…

I couldn't remember falling asleep, but I did know when I was because I was dreaming again. I dreamed that Carly was in the back seat of the car on our road trip to Vegas, all smiley and Carly-like. Sam was still driving, and I was still in the passenger seat, and we seemed to be passing the same signs over and over again, as if we were on an old _Flintstones_ episode or something. We were coming off the edge of a laugh about something, but I didn't know what. The radio was blaring, a roar in my ears that was muffling their voices in my head.

"How did you get here?" I asked Carly, but she didn't seem to hear me over the music.

Her smile faded away and she pointed ahead of her, right as the car slammed into a taco truck, the horn breaking through the sound barrier, a bright white light filling my vision, and suddenly Carly was screaming right next to me. When I blinked, she was suddenly lying in my lap, cold, silent… dead.

I looked to my left, and Sam was holding my hand and staring straight ahead, her eyes bluer than I had ever seen.

"She's dead, Freddie," she said hoarsely.

I jolted awake, my head pressed against the window, freezing and terrified. Sam glanced at me, then back at the road. "We're almost there," she said, and her voice was teeming with excitement. "What's your beef?"

I was tempted to smart off and tell her that my beef was probably a form of psychosis after she slammed my head against the window, but, considering I deserved the violent attack, I decided against it.

"It was just… a nightmare. That's all." For some reason, I found that horribly humiliating and hoped she wouldn't press it.

Of course, since I clearly found it to be such, she did. "That's the second one in the past two days. What's your dealio, nubula?"

"It's not—how did you know I had another nightmare?"

"Everyone in the hotel probably knew. You were muttering and reaching out and stuff."

I blushed from ear to ear. Damn. I didn't know I was such a physical dreamer. Then again, I supposed it could have been worse. I could have been having a sex dream.

"You were having a nightmare right?" Sam responded with amusement as if she could read my mind.

"Yes!" I squeaked, then turned my head back to the window. "…They've… just been really weird dreams. I don't know what's wrong with me. So I've been a little irritable…" I paused. "And I really am sorry… for what I said about your mom."

"It's okay," Sam said after a few moments of hesitation. Then, she let out some sort of girlish wail of joy, shoving her hand into my side. "Look! Look! There it is! **VEGAS!**"

And in the evening light, the lights were spilling out of the desert, and it looked, dare I say it, magical.

"Woah!" I gasped, halfway shoving Sam back and finding my hand clasped in hers, much like in the dream I had just had. My breath hitched in my throat. The entire city seemed to fill me with a warm, sparking excitement, and I almost felt honored to be sharing the feeling with her. "It's incredible!"

"Just wait," she said, pulling her hand from mine as if she hadn't even noticed and began the drive into the city before us. "There's so much more amazing wattage."

She should've known amazing wattage was more than enough to impress me.

But by looking at the exciting sparkle in her eyes that I hadn't seen in such a long time, I couldn't help but feel it too.

And as we cruised forward, I couldn't help but think something was going to happen in that city, something big.


End file.
